Story and Photography by Bruce Hucko
An excerpt from a new book by the School of American Research

"In the Tewa language spoken in the northern pueblos of New Mexico there is no single word for art, for the making of `art' is not seen as being any different from any other part of life. In a new book from SAR Press, children from the pueblos of Santa Clara, San Juan, San Ildefonso, Tesque and Nambe share their lives in thoughts and images with the help of their art coach Bruce Hucko."

"A pueblo is a village where all Native American people come from," states Larissa Aguilar from San Ildefonso. Devonna Naranjo says, "It's a place for visitors to look and get a `hang' of this community."

"It's a place where you do work," says Natanni Mirabal quietly. Natanni lives with his sisters, Paige and Nakiva, and their parents at Nambe Pueblo. Half of their land and buildings are devoted to their father's stone sculpture studio. Dozens of large pieces of alabaster and granite are scattered across the grounds, waiting to be worked. The children's own sculptures can be found on shelves and tables in the exhibit and work areas. The Mirabal children understand the word "work"; it is something that goes on around them constantly, and they naturally participate in it.

Sisters Danielle and Mauricia Chavarria live at Santa Clara Pueblo with their grand-parents, both of whom are active as artists and participants in Pueblo ceremonies. The two girls exhibit a strong bond with their culture.

We sit on the carpeted floor of their living room. Apart from the large console TV against one wall, just about everything in the room, from the pictures on the walls to the rugs on the floor, speaks of Indian culture. A cottonwood drum hangs in the corner, and Grandma's pottery collection occupies a cabinet and several other shelves.

Mauricia and Danielle are two years apart in age and often break into and complete each other's sentences. When I pose my question, Danielle begins.

"A pueblo is where our ancestors lived..."
"And where we have feasts and Indian dances..."
"And our traditional Indian dances. Finish the question, Bob," says Mauricia, grinning and thrusting the mini-recorder at her younger sister in a parody of a TV news commentator.

Given the theme of illustrating a favorite activity, seven-year-old Samantha Baca painted "My Aunt Making Cookies" in watercolor. Exercises in creating depth and color mixing were also included in the lesson. "Look!" Samantha exclaimed upon finishing, "My auntie is so close I can get a cookie!"

Like any other neighborhood, a pueblo has its distinguishing landmarks. Jerome Tafoya, age eight, lives with his family in Santa Clara and spends much of his time riding his bike around the pueblo. "If you see some trees, fields, and adobe houses, then that's the pueblo," Jerome explains.

"And you'll see ovens, we call them pantehs, and maybe if you get there on a certain day you'll see Indian dances," says Lee Moquino.
"You'll see the kivas and...a bunch of loose dogs!" he concludes, his eyes sparkling.
"Look for the words on the post office," suggests Nathana Bird.
"Look for the big, old church and a kiva," adds Pam Cata.

Pueblos are customarily associated with the adobe architecture, a traditional form of building popular in the southwestem United States. Thick walls rise out of the earth to remind Pueblo people of their connection to the land. Adobe houses have practical aspects as well. They stay warm in winter, cool in summer. And the materials are all around you, just waiting to be assembled.

"Indian houses are made of adobe and vigas, big logs of wood that go across the ceiling," says Jackie Lopez. "Other houses have pointy roofs, but ours are flat."

Katie Weahke explains how adobe bricks are made:"They put some mud and hay together into little blocks. After a while they put them in an oven and let them dry for about an hour. Then they take them out and stack them together to make the house. They plaster the top together and after they put in the windows and doors."

The architecture of today's pueblos is mixed. Some families live in the older, hand-built adobe houses, others in mobile homes and modern cinder-block or frame houses built by the Pueblo Tribal Councils. Springing up around the original village, with its dance plazas and kivas, are small neighborhoods and housing developments. Though these may have nicknames like "Desert Storm" or "the Kennedy," they can all be referred to as "the pueblo."

Lee Moquino of San Ildefonso Pueblo, drew and painted "Ancient Auzcestous" as a commissioned piece of art for this book. In response to his interest in drawing ancient symbols he replied, "To make good art you have got to think about your own culture and what you Iike most."

A pueblo is more than physical buildings and landscape.

"It's living in a circle with a kiva in the middle," says Rose Bean softly. Rose lives with her family near the mouth of Santa Clara Canyon. It's a quiet place, surrowtded by plants and animals. According to her mother, Roxanne Swentzell, Rose's words express a keen understanding of Tewa philosophy.

"I hope that Rose and her brother Porter will always remember what is important about this place and realize that not everyone lives like this," Roxanne Swentzell tells me. "It's not just that I am related to everybody here, but I am from here. I think a lot of people outside the community don't have a sense of self and place. That's one thing the pueblo can give them:a security in their lives. I look at these hills, these trees, this earth, and I know this is my home."

Celestino (left) and Wayne (right) Yazza combine styles from their mother's Santa Clara Pueblo and their father's Picuris Pueblo and have found that all pueblos share a common respect for clay. "We treat the clay like it's our brother or mom," says Wayne. "We respect pottery," says Celestino. "The clay is our life," they say together.

A pueblo village makes for a different way of life, one that Victoria Martinez appreciates. "It's fun being here in the summer, being outside playing, going to visit your uncles, your aunts, your friends, and taking walks to the river and riding bikes."

"It's good learning about all the things that took place long ago and going to see old things that are still here," says Heather Dasheno.

Mauricia's words attest to the influence of living with loving grandparents:"I like living here because the older Indian people teach you the ways they lived when they were little. They teach you different kinds of games they played. That's the best part. It's cool being an Indian."

"You have freedom," says Jackie Lopez. "You have your secret hiding places. You can ride your bike almost anywhere without getting hit by a car. Here, we have horses and we're going to get some cows."
"You mainly know everybody, you know most of the old people," says Lydia Martinez.
"Yeah!" says Pam Cata, laughing. "They tell us the right way but we don't listen!"

Pam and Lydia are good friends who share a boundless sense of humor. For our interview I am invited to climb a tree in Pam's yard. As we talk about the pueblo, the girls scramble back and forth on the branches and hang upside down by their knees.

"It's a place where Indian people communi-cate and work together," says Lydia, grabbing for a branch.
"...as a big family," adds Pam as she dangles from her knees.

That, at least is the ideal. Like every other community, pueblo villages have their share of difficulties, such as crime and alcohol abuse.
"I don't like the gangs and the graffiti," says Daniel Archuleta. "They write graffiti on the senior citizens' walls, the houses, and other places. I don't like the disrespect for the elders. That and the yelling outside."

Rose Bean comes from a family of cray artists who practice diversity in their art forms. "I've made animals and all sorts of things. Now I make clay dolls." Though raised in different cultures all children share a common language. "I like to draw hands, trees and my sister," says Lauissa Aguilar.

But on the other side:

"We don't live by a mall!" exclaims Raelene Gonzales, half serious, half in jest.
"You can't see other people and what they do," says Naomi Naranjo, expressing the sentiments of many young people. "You want to go out and see different attractions, real life."
"You don't get to play baseball, softball, or volleyball with...," Mauricia pauses, then whispers, "white people. Can I say that?"
"Yes."
"With white people," she repeats boldly.
"I don't like the way some people treat others here, 'cause I'm light and they're dark," Jackie Lopez says, pointing to her leg.

Many of these children are of mixed descent. The mix might be of pueblos (San Juan and San Felipe), tribes (Pueblo and Navajo), or ethnicity (Pueblo and Spanish, Pueblo and Anglo), or it could be a blend of all of these. Such diversity sometimes leads to family or community problems. At the same time, it can motivate children to explore their Pueblo culture.

Daniel Archuleta, of San Juan Pueblo, painted "Rainbow Moccasins" as an after-thought. "I was just messing around during art class," says Daniel. "I put some color down, folded the paper in half and there it was! I brushed the pants and added laces to make it show up more."

"I think having mixed cultures, in many ways, is good because it gives you a chance to learn more about yourself," suggests Melanie Wright. "But I don't think you should have to choose between the cultures. That's probably the hardest thing to do."
Regardless of the drawbacks, most of the children consider the pueblos a "cool" place to live.
"There's fresh air to breathe," says Daniel.
"It's not as trashy as a city," adds Elena Aguilar. "There's not that many cars."
"There is not a lot of smoke in the air, so you can see clearly," says KhaPovi Harvier. "I like living right by Black Mesa because it's a nice view. If I lived in the city I wouldn't have a backyard to run in, or if I did I'd see another person's house right behind it."
"The pueblo is a lot safer than the city," suggests Shanna Naranjo. "Anywhere you live you're pretty close to one of your friends."

Joe Suazo painted "Young Kokopelli" as a part of a class on watercolor technique. Children who are given the opportunity to express themselves and their culture in the language of art develop a stronger bond to both.

"But you have to be careful at night," Jerome cautions. "My uncle told us that there's people that can turn into dogs. They hide in the bushes by the bridge and grab you." Jerome wonders if we should delete this part of the interview. He's concerned that it might make some kids "a little bit scared" about going out in their own neighborhoods.

Katie sums it up pretty well. "You can do all sorts of things in the pueblo-play in the sand, look for turtles, catch some tadpoles. You can love people, share with them. You can have friends. It's safe. It's fun."

And Naomi reminds one and all of the most important aspect of living in the pueblo:"A pueblo is where your family is."

For information about Where There Is No Name for Art: The Art of Tewa Pueblo Children, Contact: SAR Press, School of American Research, P.O. Box 2188, Santa Fe, New Mexico, 87504. Telephone: (505) 984-0741.